


Black Beauty

by yeolsangels



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hybrids, Angst, Doctor Kim Seokjin | Jin, Doctor Suho, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fighter Namjoon, Fighter Reader, Fluff, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Murder, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Predator/Prey, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Romance, Serious Injuries, Shifters, Slow Burn, Soft Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Stubborn Jeon Jungkook, Tension, Trauma, Violence, visually impaired namjoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeolsangels/pseuds/yeolsangels
Summary: In which a fighting hybrid get a second chance at life.“You’re not a monster, y/n. You never were, and never will be.”A shaky breath flooded past your suddenly trembling lips, and it seemed to echo in the empty room. “How do you know that? With everything I’ve done…” a tremor wracked your body, hands curling into tight fists, “how can that possibly be true?”“All your life, you’ve been convincing yourself that you’re something you’re not. No one is blaming you for that or holding it against you. It was survival. Anyone would have done it. But now… you don’t have to try and be the monster that you thought you had to be. You don’t have to be the monster they wanted you to be. If you look past all that anger, all that suffering, all of the terrible things that you’ve been forced to endure… there’s a light. I can see it in your eyes. I know it’s there. And my job is to get you to see it, too.”
Relationships: Bangtan Boys | BTS Ensemble/Reader, Byun Baekhyun/Reader, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Reader, EXO Ensemble/Reader, Jeon Jungkook/Reader, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Reader, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Reader, Kim Jongin | Kai/Reader, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Reader, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM & Reader, Kim Seokjin | Jin/Reader, Kim Taehyung | V/Reader, Min Yoongi | Suga/Reader, Oh Sehun/Reader, Park Chanyeol/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader, Zhang Yi Xing | Lay/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Black Beauty

The scent of blood and sweat tinged the thick, humid air of the fighting ring. The cheering was deafening, the air vibrating with the excited energy of the onlookers.

It didn’t matter how many times you stepped into the ring, you always stepped into it experiencing three things; the heat of the blinding lights beating down on the back of your neck, the thunderous stomping of feet and clapping of hands sending your head into an adrenaline fueled frenzy, and the knowledge that soon enough you’d be having to fight for your right to live.

You had one simple rule; _fight like your life depended on it._

Because, simply put: _it did._

A blaring alarm echoed against the walls as the intercom buzzed to life. A familiar switch went off in your head. Any empathy, any remorse, any regret had to be left behind. Human emotions like that had no place in the Arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen! You could have been anywhere in the world tonight, but you’re here with us in The Arena! Are you ready for a fight?”

The cheers that followed we’re like having a drum being beaten against your skull, the floor beneath your feet vibrating from the sheer intensity.

People from all walks of life existed in the stands, screaming like they were ready to set hell loose. It didn’t matter if you were rich, poor, gay, straight, black, white. The blinding lights focus on the blood stained ring washed out any prejudice that might have been festering in the stands.

There were only two kinds of people that really mattered when it came to the arena: Those who lived, and those who died trying.

“Fuck this up and you’ll be in the pit for a month… If you survive, that is.” You were accustomed to Bram’s threats prior to an important match.

_Disgusting bastard._

Huffing shortly, you adjusted the thin black robe draped over your body, ignoring the way his eyes raked over your scantily clothed form.

“I won’t.” You grunted back, dark eyes sliding over to meet his, not a hint of doubt within them. You hadn’t lost since your training years were completed. And you weren’t about to start now.

A sinister grin twisted onto his scarred, round face, revealing teeth stained a grimy shade of yellow. He coughed out a hollow, raspy laugh that made the corner of your brow twitch, “Good.”

He disgusted you.

You wished it was him you were fighting. He wouldn’t stand a fucking chance. You’d fantasize about ripping his throat out countless times, clawing at his face until it was unrecognizable, tearing into that fat, grotesque belly until all the shit and piss he shoved down his throat was pouring out like a glass of spilled cranberry juice.

But those were only passing fantasies. That’s all they were. All they could ever be. Fleeting ideas that came into your mind when a feeling of particularly upsetting desolation settled in the lull of your chest. You’d convinced yourself of that much.

“Today’s going to be one hell of a fight, folks! I hope you’ve laid down your bets!”

A thunderous bellowing from the bloodthirsty audience shook the unforgiving concrete ground below your feet.

“Alright, alright, alright! I like the energy!” The announcer laughed heartily, “are you ready to meet our fighters?”

That’s your cue.

“Make me proud, _kitty_.”

You turned to Bram with sharp eyes, a warning growl rumbling in the depth of your chest. He only laughed that disgusting, throat scratching laugh, throwing a hand up in a gesture for you to get a move on. You obeyed, stifling the desire to sink your claws into his clavicle.

Turning on your heels, you made your way up the walkway. Every step closer to the ring revealed more of the merciless audience. It was a good thing you’d trained yourself long ago to completely drown them out. Any distractions meant inevitable loss.

You sunk down to your knees as you reached your final post, just out of view of the barbarous onlookers. Without a second thought, you pushed the thin robe off your shoulder, letting it pool around your ankles, leaving you completely bare.

A familiar burning sensation rolled down your spine, a deep groan emulating in the depth of your throat. Your skin rose in goosebump like formations, but from each ridge sprouted a hair, thick and sleek, black as night. It spread over every inch of your body in a matter of seconds.

At the very same time, your bones began shifting beneath your skin, snapping out of their original placements. Your spine crackled as it adjusted accordingly, your shoulders rolling back into protruding positions, neck taking on a curved appearance, long black claws took the place of your fingernails, face extending as lethal fangs pierced through the tender flesh of your gums.

The roaring of the crowd completely drowned out the sounds of your body shifting, taking on an entirely new appearance until you were wholly unrecognizable.

In your new form, you listened attentively as the announcer began the introductions. “Now, our first competitor never leaves the ring without blood dripping from his fangs. He’s a born killer— a trained assassin. His herculean presence cannot be ignored! His enemies cower at the mere mention of his name. Let’s give a warm welcome to the King of the Jungle! RM!”

A thunderous roar boomed through the stadium, sending the audience into an entirely new state of hysteria. The massive male lion came bounding up to the ring, leaping clean over the wire fence and landing smoothly on the bloodstained concrete. A deep scar ran across the side of his face, from just below his ear, across his eye, and all the way down to where his muzzle melted into a thick golden mane.

You’d heard rumors about him. There was a story that the fighters in training had bounced around a few years back. The story of how he got that nasty scar.

The details had long faded from your mind, but seeing his face now brought the climax of the story bubbling back up.

Supposedly, it was a wolf hybrid that had slashed him across the face bad enough to nearly blind him. But RM got his vengeance only moments later when he ripped the hybrid’s throat clean out of his body with his knife like teeth. And then proceeded to rip him open until the poor wolf was all but inside out, bloody intestines on full display for the hungry onlookers.

It used to give you nightmares.

But you’d long ago abandoned the idea of fear. You couldn’t afford to fear anything or anyone. In the Arena; fear was equivalent to weakness. And if your opponent could sense weakness, you were as good as dead.

RM was undoubtedly the most dangerous you’d yet to face off against. All of your previous opponents were child's play compared to bloodthirsty creature standing on the opposite end of the ring. He’d killed more hybrids in the ring than you could count on both hands. The fight was meant to end when the other could no longer fight, or when their trainer threw in a white flag. _Most_ hybrids abided by that rule. Though, there were no real consequences if you didn’t. Some of the more ruthless hybrids didn’t stop until their opponent’s heart stopped beating.

RM fell into that category.

“Now that’s an entrance!” The announcer let out a bellowing laugh through the loud speaker, “Weighing in at four hundred ten pounds, RM holds forty five wins to zero losses. He’s a force to be reckoned with in this industry, so to speak. But… that’s not to say his opponent doesn’t stand a chance. She’s got a record of her own to uphold.”

A low snarl swelled at the base of your throat as you began to stalk forward, eyes locked on the beast, watching as he strolled around the ring like he owned the damn thing. He gave thunderous roars toward the cheering crowd, a proud glint lingering in his eyes afterwards.

He was cocky. No doubt about that. He’d never lost a single fight in his life. But he was overestimating himself… and underestimating you.

“She may be pretty, but this is not a kitty you want to pet folks! She’s got a nasty bite to match those pearly whites! She’s a born predator when she enters the ring, and a natural killer to match! With a record of thirty two wins to zero losses, this killer cat will do just about anything to come out on top. You know her, you love her, you fear her— show some love for the crown jewel of The Arena, Black Beauty!”

You stepped into the bloodstained ring, hypnotic green eyes set in a cold, calculated glare, locked onto your brash opponent who was still flaunting his impressive build for the shrieking audience. He hadn’t even bothered to look in your direction. You were almost offended. But, you knew it would be his loss in the end. Because while he was entertaining the spectators, you were pinpointing his weaknesses, analyzing every possible vulnerability, preparing for the attack.

An animal as big as he was couldn’t be very fast, the bulking muscles sure to be a hindrance to his stamina. A beast like him was built for close range attacks, quick and lethal. So… you supposed you’d just have to keep him moving long enough to give yourself the upper hand.

Just as you set your attack plan straight in your head, the announcer’s voice came booming through the stadium. “These are two of our most impressive fighters, both with their titles at stake. Tonight, we’ll see who truly is the king —or queen— of the Arena. Will it be RM, the long reigning champ? Or will it be Black Beauty, the fiercest female feline of them all? I guess we’ll find out right now. The fight begins at the ring of the buzzer.”

Finally, the monster’s dark eyes fixed on you. The switch was instantaneous, from the haughty lion proudly displaying his dangerous body and impressive roar, to something else entirely.

A chill rolled down your spine.

It felt like someone had dumped a glass of ice water down the back of your neck.

Those eyes… there was nothing inside of them. No fear. No apprehension. No curiosity. Not the faintest glimmer of warmth. Not the slightest sliver of humanity. Not even _anger_.

Admittedly, that took you off guard. His eyes were void of any and all emotion, completely empty. You’d never been faced with something like this before. All your past opponents at least had some fathomable emotion in their gaze. But his had nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. It was the gaze of a creature with nothing to lose.

Not even his own life.

Any vague semblance of existence had been sucked out of him, until nothing was left but a cold, empty shell. They’d turned him into something less than human, less than animal. A true killer. Who had no real reason to kill, but no real reason not to either. That chilling indifference was enough to shake you to your very core.

But you did your very best to cap the sudden uneasiness that rushed through you, hitting you with an unexpected wave of nausea.

Pulling yourself back together as quickly as possible, you allowed a low snarl to tear itself from your lips, stare turning icy. He didn’t react, circling the ring at a slow, steady pace. You matched it easily, unsheathed claws clicking softly against the cement. You held his empty stare, swallowing down the urge to turn away. That would be a defeat. And no matter how deeply unsettling those blank eyes of his were, you weren’t willing to suffer a defeat of any kind. Not over your dead body.

“Three…” The countdown began. Your ears flattened against the back of your skull.

“Two…” Your lips drew back, flashing your deadly fangs.

“... _one_.”

The second the buzzer went off, the lion’s pupils became the size of needle points, and you were barely able to fling yourself out of the way as he lunged at you, long, curved claws extended, teeth bared, muscles bulging. The audience was nothing short of deranged, but you had no time to spare their frenzied screams a second thought as you just narrowly avoided a second attack, bolting out of reach of his outstretched claws just in time before they could rip into you.

_That’s right. Keep him moving._

You raced around the ring, stopping only to watch him get _just_ close enough before you were darting away from him again.

Feeling rather bold —and aware that the ravenous onlookers would become annoyed if there wasn’t any blood drawn— you slashed at his flank as you rushed past him. Heavy grunts and coughs of irritations rumbled in the depth of his broad chest, his beady eyes wide and carefully tracking your movements, trying to find some sort of pattern.

Of course, there was none. You were smart enough to keep your movements quick and unpredictable.

Dragging your tongue over your teeth, you watched him swivel his body around for the umpteenth time. But this time, he swayed.

_Bingo_.

You didn’t give him the opportunity to recover before you lunged, thrusting all your weight into the side of his body and sending him flying into wires, body collapsing with a heavy thud. You were on top of him in less than a second, claws slashing, teeth sinking into his vulnerable chest and shoulders. _If it weren’t for that damn mane—_

The audience’s volume increased tenfold, but you drowned them out as best you could, focusing all your energy on inflicting as much damage as possible before he threw you off.

He snarled and thrashed beneath you. He managed to land one particularly nasty hit to your jaw with a heavy paw, successfully knocking you out of your rhythm. You leapt off of him quickly, putting some space between you as he pushed himself off of the floor. Something warm and wet slid over the corner of your jowls. You swung your tongue out, a low growl rumbling to life in the base of your throat at the taste of your own metallic blood.

_Damn_. You hoped that wouldn’t scar too badly. You’d been doing pretty well with avoiding permanent injury to your face thus far. _What a shame._

You watched through narrowed eyes as the lion rose to his full height, thick red liquid splattering onto the rough concrete beneath him. He was breathing heavy, short puffs of air through wide, flaring nostrils. If he wasn’t mad before, he was sure as hell thoroughly pissed off now. Though, you supposed anything was better than that desolate look of resignation from earlier. That hollow, void look that gave you an unwanted glimpse into your own future.

The thought lingered just a moment too long, and you missed the first signs of his impending attack. His thunderous roar brought you back to reality in time to see his massive form bounding towards you. You jolted forward, your throat avoiding his awaiting jaws by a hair’s length. But you were not spared a deeply detrimental wound to your hind leg. You yowled as his claws sliced through your flesh, a warm rush of blood spilling down your leg and pooling beneath your paw. A sharp hiss worked its way up your throat as you tried to put some weight on your wounded hind leg, only to wince as shooting pain splintered like white hot electricity through your nerves.

Damnit. _Damnit!_

Outrunning him wasn’t an option anymore. You had to think of something, _fast_ , otherwise you’d be reduced to just another one of RM’s many victims.

Agility and strength were your strong suits, but there was no getting around the fact that this lion was far stronger than you. So close range head on attacks were out of the question. You wouldn’t last a minute against a monster like him, and you weren’t foolish enough to think otherwise.

But what alternatives did you have?

The snarl bubbling in your chest halted as your eyes met his and your gaze fell onto the jagged scar cutting across half his face, and a sudden thought struck you.

You could finish the job.

It was risky. _Very risky._ Landing an attack on his face would be difficult. He could crush every last bone in your paw in the blink of an eye if he managed to catch it in those fatal jaws. But right now, you were injured, which meant he had the upper hand— er, _paw_. And you had to change that before it was too late.

You swiftly swung your body around, facing the growling, drooling beast standing across the ring from you. Stealing your nerves, you steadied yourself, locking your feet in place, boldly staring him down. Your message was clear.

_You want me? Come get me._

A fire burned in the depths of his blazing amber eyes, the insatiable hunger festering inside of him almost palpable as he dragged his tongue over his lethal fangs. His shoulders rolled under his golden pelt, his massive head lowering. Your animal instincts were screaming at you, but you ignored them, holding your ground.

His piercing eyes narrowed into threatening slits, lips drawing back as a growl so deep you felt it in your bones rumbled past them.

His body pressed back.

Your ear twitched.

He lunged.

Every cell in your being howled at you to _move_.

You forced down the searing pain as you rose up onto your hind legs, curved claws unsheathing. Within inches of his jaws locking around your throat, you swung your paw forward, striking him hard across the face. A bloodcurdling sound of pain ripped through the humid air of the area. His body connected with yours so harshly that it knocked the air out of your lungs. His bone crushing weight only added to your inability to breath as he collapsed on top of you, pinning you to the rough, bloodstained concrete. A strangled whine escaped your throat as you struggled feebly beneath him, but a sharp pain in your chest brought your writhing to a standstill. _Shit. Something was definitely broken._

Both relief and terror washed over you as the lion’s massive body rose off of you. Relief, because— well, _breathing_. Terror, because now there was a snarling, bloody faced, killer lion hovering above you. And he did not look very pleased.

Half of his face was drenched in thick sheen of dark crimson, the skin ripped and marred, deep gashes reaching from the outer corner of his now blood filled left eye to the inner corner of his right. It was clear at least that one eye would be of no more use to him in the future.

But with him standing above you, and your body feeling as if it had just been smashed under four hundred pounds of pure muscle, it was clear who would walk out of the Arena alive, and who wouldn’t.

Your breathing left you in ragged, wheezing huffs, a striking agony exploding through your chest with every inhale. Your paw had been bent at an awkward angle when he fell on top of you and now rested limply on the ground. There was an odd tingling sensation in your wounded back leg, and you couldn’t quite feel it properly. The back of your head had hit the floor pretty hard, and there was a distant buzzing in your ears. You were thoroughly broken.

Regardless of that fact, you glared stubbornly up into the one good eye of your opponent. If you were going down, you’d at least be going down with some goddamn dignity.

The beast stared down at you, once again with that cold, empty stare, the previous fire fizzling out. His hot, rancid breath slapped you in the face as he slowly lowered his bulky head, droplets of his fresh blood dripping onto your face and neck. The metallic scent of it burned in your sensitive nose.

The crowd chanted dementedly, but their cult-like cries were mere white noise in your ringing ears.

_Shit. Looks like this is it._

So this was how your life ended— if you could really even call it that. You’d spent the entirety of it in a constant state of nonexistence, the metaphorical leash around your neck always pulled taut. One slip up and you’d be beaten with a metal bat and then tossed into a metal cell so small that you couldn’t even stretch your legs properly.

Every moment of your life has been spent teetering on the edge of a bottomless cliff. You didn’t have the privilege of wondering what tomorrow might bring, always forced to live in the moment, to fight in the moment, to _survive_ in the moment.

Because _any_ moment could be your last.

And it seemed that now, you’d finally reached that moment. But, after a lifetime of endless pain and constant discomfort and unrelenting anger at the world and everyone in it, somehow, this last moment didn’t seem so bad.

You watched as the lion’s jaws parted, a sudden sense of defeat settling over you. Letting your eyes fall shut, your head tilted to the side. You hoped it would be over quickly, that he wouldn’t draw it out and extract every last broken cry from your beaten body. You’d been in pain your whole life. Would your death have to be torturous as well?

The taste of blood stung your tongue as you coughed weakly. Above you, RM growled. You braced yourself. You felt his fangs graze your throat. And then—

_Chaos_.

Within a second of your life being taken, the area erupted in screams and shouts, but not the kind you were familiar with. This was different.

A siren wailed, red lights flashed, the audience was in mayhem. People were running. There were voices yelling. There was a roar so thunderous that it momentarily disoriented you, and then all at once, RM was gone from on top of you. You didn’t have the strength to lift your head for more than a few seconds, so you couldn’t get an idea of what was happening around you. All you knew was _something_ was happening. Something that had never happened before.

But you were already beginning to feel the tempting pull of exhaustion lulling your mind into the dark abyss of sleep. The fight had taken a heavy toll on you. Every inch of your body was in agony, and you, for the first time in your life, were prepared to give up.

Your eyelids fluttered, muscles relaxing as your vision began to fade in and out of darkness.

But just before your mind fell completely into unconsciousness, something touched your face. Something warm… gentle…

Confusion washed over you, and you fought against the pull of sleep for just a moment longer to force open your heavy eyelids. Your vision was blurred and hazy, but somehow you could just make out the fuzzy silhouette of someone hovering above you. A pair of soft brown eyes stood out, swimming with a strange emotion. You didn’t recognize them.

As your vision failed, you inhaled deeply. An unfamiliar yet pleasant scent greeted your nose. Whoever it was— they didn’t reek of greed and corruption and bloodlust like most of the humans you’d come across. No… they smelled of something you’d only ever encountered a small number of times in your entire life.

A soft, warm, comforting scent. It put your mind at ease.

But, you couldn’t resist the lure of slumber long enough to fully decipher it.

In less than a second, your consciousness was ripped out from underneath of you, and you fell into the deep abyss of sleep, unsure if you’d ever wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first story posted on ao3 so I'm still in the process of figuring things out, I hope you can bear with me! 
> 
> This story was originally posted to tumblr but I have since deleted it from that platform and revised it. Not all relationships mentioned in the tags are going to be romantic or sexual, most will be good ole' platonic friendships. But, the reader WILL have romantic interests from both EXO and BTS. But I'm not telling who because that would ruin the surprise ;) 
> 
> This is probably the most graphic the story will get in regards to violence, but future chapters will address sensitive, possibly triggering topics so please be careful and take the warnings seriously!
> 
> Thank you, I hope you enjoy!


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